The Rogue by Monica McCarty

Author:Monica McCarty
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Buccaneer Press LLC
Published: 2016-04-17T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was true. He’d done it. Izzie couldn’t believe it. But not long after she returned to the guesthouse after meeting with Walter, Elizabeth came bursting into the room with a smile so exaggerated and forced it seemed in danger of shattering like a piece of overblown glass.

She and Randolph were to marry, she said. She was “thrilled” (which didn’t explain why her eyes were sparkling with tears) and hoped they would be happy for her. Izzie managed a long hug (mostly so her cousin wouldn’t see the tears in her own eyes), but Joanna was so disappointed, she could barely murmur a choked, emotion-filled congratulations. There would be a feast to celebrate at the midday meal, Elizabeth continued with enough brightness to light the city at night, an even bigger celebration tomorrow after the betrothal ceremony, and a wedding to plan for in three weeks.

Three weeks?

Izzie’s knees buckled. She felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach. She hoped no one had seen her stagger.

“Is something wrong, Izzie?” Elizabeth asked. Izzie cursed, realizing her cousin had been watching her. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m not feeling very well,” Izzie answered truthfully.

She felt ill. She must have looked it, too. Both Elizabeth and Joanna became immediately concerned.

“Perhaps you should go lie down for a while,” Joanna suggested. The sympathy in Jamie’s wife’s gaze made Izzie wonder if the other woman suspected something of the truth. “Elizabeth and I will discuss all the details and fill you in on everything when you feel better.” Or never, Joanna seemed to add silently.

Izzie nodded gratefully.

Elizabeth looked so worried, Izzie almost felt guilty for misleading her as to the source of her illness. “I do hope you aren’t coming down with something serious. I don’t want you to miss the ceremony tomorrow. I need you there.”

Izzie’s stomach lurched at the thought; she feared her paleness had turned a little green. “Me, too,” she said with halfheartedness that she hoped her cousin would attribute to her illness.

An illness that, as it turned out, did last through the betrothal ceremony.

Elizabeth pretended to understand, but Izzie knew her cousin was hurt by her absence. Izzie wanted to be there for her—truly she did—but she just couldn’t do it. Maybe she was a coward, maybe she was selfish, maybe she wasn’t ready to accept the truth and wanted to delude herself a little longer, she didn’t know. But she couldn’t stand witness to Randolph binding himself to her cousin and pretend it didn’t matter. Pretend it didn’t hurt. Pretend that she didn’t want him for herself.

So she stayed away, tending her wounds in private, while her cousin tried to convince them that she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life. Izzie and Joanna weren’t fooled; the only question was how long Elizabeth could continue to fool herself.

The day after the betrothal ceremony, Izzie had “recovered” enough to join her cousin and Joanna on a prewedding shopping trip up and down the high street of Edinburgh.

She

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